Chapter 5: Threads Unraveled
272 Words
Felicity’s hands shook as she stood in the east wing’s shadowed corridor, the door still ajar from last night’s gamble. Jarden’s words—you’re not wrong—looped in her mind, his touch a lingering heat. She couldn’t wait for his promised answers. The hum from deeper within pulled her forward, past shelves heavy with folders. Her fingers brushed one labeled “Monroe.” Her last name. Her breath hitched.
Inside, a faded photo: her, age ten, at a county fair, her father’s arm around her. Below, a handwritten note in unfamiliar scrawl: Kansas asset, secured. Her stomach twisted. How did Jarden have this? Was her hiring a trap?
Footsteps snapped her focus. She shoved the photo back, heart racing, and slipped behind a cabinet. Elara’s voice cut through, sharp and low, speaking to someone unseen. “She’s too close, sir. We should act.”
Silence, then Jarden’s reply, calm but firm. “Not yet. She’s useful.”
Felicity’s chest tightened. Useful? She waited, barely breathing, until their steps faded. Emerging, she pocketed the photo, her mind spinning. Trent’s note, Jarden’s interest, now this—her past wasn’t just following her; it was here.
In the staff kitchen later, Elara cornered her, eyes like flint. “You were in the east wing, weren’t you?” Her tone was a blade, no warmth.
Felicity squared her shoulders, defiance flaring. “What’s Jarden hiding? Something about me?”
Elara’s lips curled, cold. “Ask him yourself. But meddling girls don’t last long here.”
As Elara left, Felicity gripped the photo in her pocket, resolve hardening. She’d find the truth, no
matter the cost.
- Writer
